


Welcomed Repercussions

by Baneberry



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe, D/s, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Punishment, Spanking, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Threesome, domination and submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-18 23:46:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5947900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baneberry/pseuds/Baneberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baby gone and done a bad, bad thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy AU where Quark lives and hooks up with Brainstorm and Perceptor and they have a healthy BDSM relationship. Hooray!
> 
> A lot of thanks and credit goes to [Chaim](https://robo-hunter-chaim.tumblr.com/). They not only gave me the nice prompt, but helped me fill in the details. Thanks much, bb. <3

The atmosphere in the room was quite... mixed.

Brainstorm, kneeling on the floor, gazed up at Perceptor and Quark standing at the closed door. Perceptor's arms were folded, Quark glaring as he adjusted his glasses; they both looked upset, disappointed. Angry.

"I suppose an 'I'm sorry' won't suffice?" Brainstorm joked, cheeky smile hidden behind his maskplate.

"It would count even less knowing it'd be an empty apology," Perceptor said coldly. "You were given only one warning. I think, perhaps, you deliberately disobeyed aforementioned warning."

"I'm not surprised," Quark sighed, flitting a hand in the air, "Brainstorm has always been a glutton for punishment."

Brainstorm chuckled. "What can I say? I'm programmed to be a little masochistic. But, contrary to what you two may believe, it was--"

"Enough," Perceptor cut him off, his voice icy and sharp and Brainstorm actually recoiled. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I was hoping you'd learn to master a little patience and self-control. I see now that was a useless endeavor. Well, then." Perceptor folded his arms behind his back. "To derive joy from your punishment hardly makes it much of a punishment. However, rules are rules--and we are not as ardent to break them as you are."

Brainstorm looked between the two mechs.

Perceptor stood up straight. "Quark," he said, suddenly, "you may proceed."

Quark balked, glancing up at Perceptor with wide-eyed surprise. "Me?" He pointed to his chest. "But... I thought I was only suppose to observe..."

"Your training has reached its end," Perceptor stated. "Therefore, you may carry out Brainstorm's punishment, as per regulations."

Quark looked hesitant. He swallowed, turned his nervous gaze to Brainstorm. But he saw that smarmy glow in the flier's optics; Quark knew he was grinning like the cat who caught the canary. Quark's browplates furrowed, spark flaring with mild irritation. Newly determined, he stood tall and crossed the room swiftly.

Sitting down on the wide berth, Quark got comfortable (while still appearing stiff and serious). "Up," he ordered, gesturing to his lap.

Brainstorm tried not to giggle as he drew to his feet. Perceptor watched him with that cold gaze as he crawled onto the bed, carefully stretching himself across Quark's knees. He laid out on his stomach, minding fuselage and kibble. "Open." 

Brainstorm's panel slid open, and he slightly raised his hips, exposing the edge of his channel. He knew the drill. Once in position, Quark looked to Perceptor--Perceptor nodded curtly.

Quark raised a hand. "Ten for impatience," he growled, "ten more for disobedience." He slapped Brainstorm across the flanks, catching the back end of his channel. Brainstorm instinctively jerked in Quark's lap, biting down on his yelp. "One," Quark started counting, and brought his hand back down again, harder this time, "two."

Brainstorm's fingers fidgeted, grasping at the smooth surface of the berth. He rocked into each of the hard blows. His aft plating was starting to warm up, surface sensors sore and burning to the touch by the sixth swat. Though Quark had only smacked an inch or two of his open channel, his folds were starting to swell, lubricant wetting mesh walls.

For as much as this hurt, it also felt absolutely wonderful. 

Brainstorm was dizzy; torn between screaming, begging for mercy, and pleading for more. He bit his tongue, almost hard enough to break the mesh. By the twelfth spanking, his mind started to settle a little. He remembered what he had to do next; just wait.

All the while, Perceptor watched; saying nothing, doing nothing more.

Brainstorm heaved, engine revving. But when he heard Quark count off the fourteenth slap--Brainstorm suddenly reached back, grabbing at the microscope's hip and digging his fingers into a familiar seam.

Quark gasped, jerking; he dropped his hand back, and glared down at Brainstorm, optics flaring behind his glasses.

"You stopped."

Quark went rigid. He looked meekly back at Perceptor. Brainstorm was grinning like a loon again, but remained absolutely still. "I... He--"

"You lost momentum," Perceptor interjected, "what did I say about staggering? About letting yourself get distracted? In the lab, this can be very dangerous and hazardous. I expect the same attention and strict obedience here in our private quarters as well."

Quark gulped loudly; Brainstorm almost heard it. "I'm... I'm sorry," he said. "I suppose... then..."

"Brainstorm," Perceptor said, "down."

Brainstorm wriggled off Quark's lap. He shuddered, unable to stand; he slipped onto his knees, heat blossoming up his backstrut and between his legs.

"Quark," Perceptor pointed to the ground in front of him, "come here."

Quark clenched his fists. He glanced between Brainstorm and Perceptor, once more delaying. He knew, of course, he could always say no. Except it'd be two very different, unusual words instead. He knew he could still back out of this... But with the way Perceptor was looking at him, so commanding and authoritative, and Brainstorm trembling at his feet... The rush returned, and not wanting to dismount so quickly, Quark stood and walked over to Perceptor.

Perceptor ordered, "Turn around."

Quark did, his back to the slightly taller mech. An arm was abruptly thrown around his throat, holding him firmly in place; pulling him up just enough for his boots to lose a little purchase off the ground. Perceptor thrust his free hand between Quark's legs, pushing aside all-too eager panels, and thrust two fingers inside the exposed channel.

Quark gasped, latching onto the arm around his neck. Brainstorm cried with him, falling forward; he pressed his hands to the ground, bracing himself from collapsing.

"Your punishment is not quite over, Brainstorm," Perceptor grumbled. His fingers alternated between stroking folds and probing into Quark's channel, going in past the knuckle. He was wet quick enough, and when Brainstorm looked up, Perceptor was holding open Quark's folds, showing the flier his anterior node.

More specifically, the small little device attached to it. Brainstorm knew what this meant; Perceptor pushed against the anterior node, and the device lit up. Quark yelped, and Brainstorm choked down on a cry. He felt that same pressure against his own anterior node, vibrating through the device's twin.

"Sit up," Perceptor commanded. "Hands behind your back."

Brainstorm reluctantly pushed himself up on his knees, crossing his wrists behind him.

"Let me see you," Perceptor insisted. He massaged Quark's anterior node, and the effect passed onto Brainstorm; the flier vented, legs parting to show his open channel, leaking strands of purple lubricant. There was the device, buzzing and glowing. "You do not overload until I say you can, understood?"

"Y-Yes," Brainstorm croaked.

Perceptor went quiet, but never unlocked optics with Brainstorm. He held Quark out to him like a piece of meat to a starving dog. Pumping his fingers inside Quark's channel, stroking his folds. Quark felt a chill run down his backstrut; being watched like this... Brainstorm looked like he was in pain, unlike the spanking from before. So needy, his desire was all too apparent in his suffocating, expanding EM field.

Quark felt his spark skip a pulse. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he dropped his head back and moaned obscenely loud. Brainstorm whimpered, his hands shaking behind his back. Perceptor seemed to approve of this teasing, however, and bowed down to press a kiss to Quark's lips. It was slow, shallow, lips brushing, tongues peeking out, and Brainstorm could only watch as every single circuit in his body burned.

Perceptor deepened the kiss, all the while working languid circles against Quark's anterior node. Brainstorm continued panting, optics flashing and dimming. Lubricant pooled beneath him, his thighs twitching.

Just a few more thrusts, and Quark would overload. He broke the kiss, whimpering, mouth open. He rocked his hips, riding into the fingers. Quark's head started to spin, vision blurring, and just as he was about to reach the edge--

Quark squeaked, suddenly let go and pushed to the floor. He turned on hands and knees to Perceptor, confused, panting, glasses tilted.

"Did you forget?" Perceptor sneered, studying his fingers wet with Quark's lubricant. "This was not a reward."

Quark shuddered. He was frustrated, pent-up charge angrily thrashing in his frame, and yet he wasn't mad--not really. Not when Perceptor looked at him like that, not when Brainstorm was so desperate to touch him he was close to tears.

Perceptor took a moment to open a panel on his wrist, hitting a few buttons. Disabling the node devices. He snapped his fingers, pointing to Brainstorm. Quark, yearning to please his partner and earn his overload, crawled over to Brainstorm's side. Brainstorm leaned closer, but did not dare touch him. He wanted to, so badly, but his hands remained knotted behind his back.

Perceptor let them stew a moment, bathe in their misery and lust. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he walked over. His panels retracted, unit pressurizing, channel slick with lubricant. There was no denying his own arousal, not this way. He stood in front of the two mechs, trembling messes as they were, clutching his unit in one firm hand.

"Quark, on your knees," Perceptor commanded. Quark sat forward, kneeling; he braced his hands against Perceptor's thighs, waiting, shaking. Perceptor guided his head down further, toward his channel. "Lick."

Quark didn't hesitate this time. He tried not to let his own anxiety rush him; he lathered Perceptor's folds with his tongue first, and felt a sudden swelling of pride at the way Perceptor shivered in response.

Perceptor, however, was not one to be distracted from work. "You," he said, and suddenly slammed his boot down against Brainstorm's open channel. Brainstorm cried out, thighs starting to close; he forced them back open, leaning against the nearby wall. "Why are you being punished?"

Brainstorm glanced at Quark, his head bobbing, tongue stroking Perceptor's anterior node. Perceptor started grinding his foot against Brainstorm's channel then, and he keened. "I--I went b-back to the l-lab! And con--continued working on... on--" He sobbed as Perceptor pushed down, denting pelvic armor. "Theprojectwhenyouyousaid--you said w-we all needed to... to be t-there--nnnplease!"

"Yet you willingly disobeyed the rules, knowing the consequences," Perceptor said, his voice throaty. His blue optic shimmered. Still, he did not falter, even as Quark ate him out so vigorously. "So, tell me: why should I let you overload?"

"M-Mercy?" Brainstorm whimpered.

Perceptor lifted his foot, and slammed it back down. Brainstorm shrieked.

"Enough," Perceptor grumbled, grasping the top of Quark's head. Quark sat back, looking up at Perceptor, licking his lips. "Change places," he ordered.

It took Brainstorm a moment to recover, but he soon crawled over, brushing ever so slightly with Quark. He wanted to stop and just pin Quark down, take him, but he continued onward. Quark sat in his place, in the same puddle of lubricant. "You may touch yourself until you reach overload," Perceptor said.

Quark tried not to beam. "T-Thank you, sir."

Perceptor took Brainstorm's chin and raised his head, grazing his cheek with his unit. He flicked a finger against the maskplate, where it unlocked and fell free. "Suck," he ordered.

Brainstorm exvented heavily, happily taking Perceptor's unit in his mouth. His intakes adjusted quickly, moving down the entire length to its base. He rubbed his tongue beneath the unit's underside, moving his head back and forth. Never quite letting Perceptor go. He sucked, hard, and Perceptor's lips twitched. He clutched the back of Brainstorm's head, pushing and guiding it as he ever so eloquently thrust himself down the flier's throat.

Quark heaved, hand immediately finding his anterior node and stroking. He watched the two as he stroked himself, occasionally dipping in a finger and riding it. He couldn't decide who was hotter; then again, this wasn't a competition. They were both his partners, after all. And watching them pleasure one another like this... It didn't take long for Quark to climax, crying out as he squeezed around the two fingers pressed inside him. Transfluid spurt free, joining the lubricant on the ground.

Brainstorm was just upset he couldn't see Quark overload. He needed a little more friction, just a little touching, stroking, tugging, and he could overload. But his hands remained in front of him, on the ground; he would not touch himself until Perceptor allowed it. Still, he did get a kick out of watching Perceptor. He kept a serious face, and seemed unaffected, but Brainstorm knew he was falling apart, little by little.

Perceptor shoved Brainstorm back onto his rear. Brainstorm hissed, his plating still sore from the spanking. He looked up at Perceptor, then the hand pumping his unit hard and fast-- Brainstorm winced as transfluid splashed across his face, spilling into the corners of his mouth.

Perceptor exvented, settling. He stepped back, letting himself go. His unit slowly depressurized.

"Quark," Perceptor said hoarsely, "join me in the washracks."

Brainstorm wiped the transfluid from his optics. That might be a no-no, but at this point he didn't care. "What about--"

"As I told Quark," Perceptor said, helping Quark up and supporting him with an arm around the waist, "this is not a reward for good behavior. You are being punished."

Brainstorm watched, shocked, mouth gaping, as his two partners left the room. And even with Perceptor gone, he knew better than to finish himself off; whining, he collapsed onto his side and sulked.

Dammit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftercare scene!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, and ridiculously fluffy.

"Parade float."

Perceptor and Quark returned to their quarters none too soon. They were greeted by Brainstorm still sitting on the floor, glaring sullenly. A cross between frustration and self-pity. It was obvious by the fluctuations in his EM field he still had a charge going--though his partners hadn't been gone very long, anyway.

Perceptor, however, smiled. 

Quark walked over to him, holding out his hands. Brainstorm took them, and with a little effort, managed to stand. His knees locked and he almost fell against the microscope before Perceptor swooped in to his right, supporting him with an arm around his back. Both bots guided the limping flier to the berth, and gently sat him down.

Quark noticed Brainstorm's wince immediately. "Is your aft still tender?" he asked.

Brainstorm nodded. "Nothing I can't deal with," he said. It was this annoying, buzzing charge he couldn't stand.

"Reprimand over," Perceptor said. Brainstorm exvented, panels shifting aside; his unit was throbbing, pressurized. "You took your punishment well, Brainstorm. Now, Quark, if you'll take the bottom."

Quark nodded. Carefully, both microscopes took Brainstorm's unit in hand--Perceptor the top half, Quark the bottom. Brainstorm momentarily seized up before relaxing. They started pumping his unit, moving in perfect tandem, as if they were simply one person doing all the work. Brainstorm's venting picked up; he shivered, leaning forward. Perceptor placed a hand to his lower back, and Quark pet his arm for reassurance.

It took only a few minutes before Brainstorm finally overloaded. It felt like a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders--and his groin. He sunk into his partners' hands, exventing with relief. They let him go, unit depressurizing back inside its housing. Quark grunted, shaking off some of the transfluid on his hand before standing and crossing the room. Fetching a few rags, a bottle of polish, and a bottle of cleaning solvent, he returned.

"Lay down," Quark said.

Perceptor helped Brainstorm onto his side. The flier tried to repress a smile, but honestly, this was probably his favorite part. Well, maybe. Who didn't like being pampered? Perceptor squeezed a few dollops of solvent onto the rag, and quietly went to cleaning up the mess on his hand, then the transfluid and lubricant drying between Brainstorm's legs.

Quark used the polish to gently rub Brainstorm's flanks, easing out tension and cooling the surface sensors. "Tell me if I'm pushing down too hard," he said.

Brainstorm groaned. "Juuuust perfect."

For the next eight minutes, the trio were quiet--Perceptor cleaning Brainstorm's front, and Quark his back. Occasionally Quark would reach up and lightly pat his wings, earning a small sigh of contentment from the flier.

"I suppose my training remains incomplete, after my blunder," Quark murmured.

"You did just fine," Perceptor reassured. "You must remember--you can always back out if you do feel uncomfortable."

Quark nodded, his optics bright. He smiled; still adjusting to this lifestyle, it was always nice to hear praise from his partners.

And Brainstorm was quick to chime in, "Next time, I'll let you get to nineteen before I trip you up."

Quark huffed.

After cleaning up Brainstorm and disposing of the rags and bottles, Quark and Perceptor laid down with the flier. Quark curled up against Brainstorm's chest, and Brainstorm was all too happy to wrap his arms around him, pull him closer. He leaned back into Perceptor spooning him from behind, one arm draped across the both of them.

Not long after, the three fell into easy recharge together.

**Author's Note:**

> (yes, there was much aftercare afterward)


End file.
